


How To Belong

by almostsophie1



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29091804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostsophie1/pseuds/almostsophie1
Summary: Kenma is volunteered to take care of a stranger's cat.(Kuroo Tetsurou, aforementioned stranger, is not what Kenma expected.)
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 45
Kudos: 384
Collections: Recommended KuroKen Fics





	How To Belong

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Quick warnings for descriptions of an anxiety attack and discussions of family illness/health scares.
> 
> Happy reading <3

“Just for two weeks,” Shouyou says, voice excessively bright even over the phone. “And you like cats!”

Kenma frowns at the pavement. The February chill is biting, temperature dropping rapidly with the sunset. Kenma sticks his free hand in his pocket, sniffing quietly as Shouyou continues talking, a fast-paced ramble about this specific cat and how much Kenma would love him. 

When Kenma realizes Shouyou isn’t going to stop until Kenma answers, he mutters, “Shouyou.”

Shouyou cuts off abruptly. “Yeah?”

There’s about thirty reasons why Kenma doesn’t want to agree to pet-sitting, the primary one being Kenma is constantly tired and has a nonexistent desire to drag himself over to a stranger’s apartment every morning and evening for half a month. The others range from ‘would likely have to meet a stranger to get keys’ and Kenma _hates_ meeting strangers’ to ‘less time to play games at night.’

But the truth of the matter is that Kenma does like cats. He hasn’t had one since he left home for university. And still doesn’t have one now even though he graduated nearly a year ago.

Also he likes Shouyou.

A car passes Kenma on his left, and his apartment building comes into view—four stories tall and one of the older structures in the neighborhood. 

Kenma sighs quietly. “Fine.” 

“Huh? Really?” Shouyou asks.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Kenma mumbles into his phone. 

“I’m not!” Shouyou insists. “Thank you! I’ll message you his contact info. He really doesn’t live far from you, promise. It’ll be easy. And I know he’ll really appreciate it.”

Kenma’s frown deepens, already regretting saying yes. He stops in front of the apartment’s main doors, and he takes his free hand out of his jacket pocket to punch in the code. His ideal night consists of eating take-out and playing games after work, not contacting a complete stranger. 

The door slides open, and Kenma shuffles inside, warmth from the small lobby heater reaching his cheeks. He checks his mail slot to find nothing but this month’s electricity bill, which he takes with an inward sigh before heading to the stairs. “What’s his name?” Kenma asks.

“Maguro,” Shouyou says, and Kenma nearly trips on a step. “Shiro Maguro, actually, because Kuroo-san has kind of a weird sense of humor—”

“I meant your friend,” Kenma says, and honestly he feels sorry for this cat for being named after a fish.

“Oh,” Shouyou says, and he laughs. “Sorry. Yeah, his name is Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsurou.” 

Kuroo Tetsurou and his cat, Shiro Maguro. 

There’s an inexplicable flash of rare curiosity that crosses Kenma’s mind as he pins the electricity bill between his arm and his side, freeing his hand to rummage around in his over the shoulder bag for his keys as he reaches his apartment door.

“Okay,” Kenma says, and he wiggles the key into the lock, turning it with a quiet click. 

“Thanks, Kenma,” Shouyou says, still just as bright as before. “And let me know when you have a free weekend next, okay? I’ll take the train and spend the night.”

Kenma hasn’t had anyone over at his apartment since Shouyou visited two months ago. It feels empty most of the time. Too big, even though it only has one bedroom and a cramped living space.

“Okay,” Kenma says again. 

“Send me pictures of Maguro, please,” Shouyou adds. “Bye, Kenma!”

“Bye.” 

The call ends, and Kenma closes the door behind him. He stands for a moment in the dark, his blinds barely open and the last remnants of the sunset gone from the sky beyond.

Kenma always liked the quiet. He likes being alone after a long day at work. 

But tonight, for some reason, he thinks he already misses Shouyou’s voice.

He’s only halfway out of his shoes when his phone buzzes again, and he glances down at the bright screen.

**From Shouyou**

[Kuroo Tetsurou’s Contact Attached] 

here!!!!!! also if he’s weird i’m sorry

**To Shouyou**

weird?

**From Shouyou**

not in a bad way!!!!

just weird you know???

**To Shouyou**

no 

**From Shouyou**

ahhhhh hmmmmm

you’ll see!!!

he’s a good guy 

and maguro is really cute ^^

Kenma pops the lid of the tupperware, sticking his leftovers in the microwave and setting it for a minute.

**To Shouyou**

how did you even meet him?

**From Shouyou**

he’s friends with bokuto-san!!!

i’ve met him a few times and i mentioned once that he lives close to a friend of mine

(you!!)

and i guess he remembered and messaged me 

**To Shouyou**

okay

**From Shouyou**

i think you’ll like him!

or at least maguro lololol

The microwave beeps, and Kenma retrieves his dinner, shoving his phone back into his pocket to carry the nearly too-hot tupperware to his desk, curling up in his chair and opening his laptop.

He avoids messaging this Kuroo Tetsurou until he’s finished watching a livestream from one of his favorite gamers, and then his leftover curry is gone and the metal spoon is still hanging out of his mouth and his apartment is so, so quiet.

He starts a message, then deletes it.

He starts another one, then deletes that one too.

He considers telling Shouyou that he changed his mind, and he brushes his teeth and changes into his favorite pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt his university roommate won at a raffle event that Kenma didn’t go to, and then he types out a message and hits send.

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

hi. this is kozume kenma

shouyou said you needed someone to take care of your cat 

It sounds stilted, but Kenma never messages anyone first (and rarely messages anyone at all). He sits back at his desk and loads a new game, slipping his headphones on again.

His phone lights up just as he’s crawling into bed, a little after midnight.

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

hi kozume-san~~

nice to meet you!

and yeah, i’ll be gone for two weeks for work and hinata had mentioned you lived nearby 

i can tell you about maguro (my cat @_@) and stuff over coffee and you can let me know whether or not you’re still willing to do it?

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

okay

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

sweet! when are you free?

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

any night after 6

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

is tomorrow at 6:30 okay?

Kenma stares at the message. He really does hate meeting new people. It’s awkward and he never knows what to say and he can tell from their body language that they’re uncomfortable with how quiet he is, but he can never _do_ anything about it. He doesn’t like small talk.

But this isn’t small talk. It’ll be a short meeting for Kuroo to explain details about pet-sitting and Kenma can ask a few questions and mostly just listen. And if it goes okay, he’ll get to pet a cat twice a day for two weeks.

He really misses petting cats.

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

if that’s too soon, no worries~~

just let me know when you’re available 

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

tomorrow is fine 

what coffee shop?

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

do you know the one near exit 2 of the subway station with all the plants out on the balcony? 

i think it’s the second floor of the building

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

yes. i’ll meet you inside

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

sounds good!（っ＾▿＾）

see you then kozume-san

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

okay

and kenma is fine 

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

see you then kenma-san~~

Kenma blinks sleepily at his phone. 

Other than naming his cat Shiro Maguro, Kuroo doesn’t seem _that_ weird. At least not yet.

Kenma falls asleep with his phone still cradled in his hand, and for the first time in weeks, he’s thinking about tomorrow and the coffee shop with plants on the balcony instead of how quiet an empty apartment feels when someone lives alone. 

-

Riding the subway is a necessary evil.

Kenma got a job at a game design company after graduation, but the area it’s located in is far outside Kenma’s price range. The nearest affordable neighborhood was five subway stops away, and that’s where Kenma found his apartment. 

On his commute home from work tonight, there are no seats available and there’s a man with a briefcase who keeps bumping it into Kenma’s back, but it’s also so crowded that Kenma has nowhere to go.

It’s eight minutes and thirty-something seconds of misery, and then Kenma squeezes his way off the subway car and into the station. He _wants_ to take a shower, but he’s also supposed to meet Kuroo.

He feels—gross, honestly. His hair is long again, hanging just beneath his chin, and he thinks it seems greasy. He stepped in someone’s spilled coffee earlier, and there’s a small oil stain on his pants from where he spilled some of his lunch on himself while he was eating at his desk.

He almost messages Kuroo and cancels, but then there’s a notification popping up across his screen.

**From Shouyou**

kuroo-san said you guys are meeting today to talk about you taking care of maguro!!!!!

please tell him i said hi!!

**To Shouyou**

aren’t you messaging him right now 

**From Shouyou**

an hour ago?

oh lololol i see your point 

but still!! tell him i said hi ^^

Kenma burrows into his coat as he walks up the steps of exit two. He guesses it doesn’t matter that he’s in desperate need of a shower. He and Kuroo are just talking about pet-sitting anyway.

He doesn’t bother answering Shouyou, instead making his way out of the station and down the street, avoiding other pedestrians as he finds the cafe Kuroo mentioned.

The plants on the second floor balcony are a vibrant green even in the February cold, streetlight illuminating them as Kenma looks up. 

He heads into the building and takes the stairs up, pushing open the cafe glass door to warm yellow light and the smell of espresso. It’s not busy, which Kenma is grateful for, only a few tables occupied near the window. He tugs at his bag as he approaches the counter, and mumbles his order.

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

here. just ordered

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

ahhh sorry!

be there in a few minutes

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

it’s fine. i’m early

Kenma waits until his mocha is ready, which is decaffeinated but loaded with sugar, and then takes it to a small table in the back of the cafe. There’s a potted plant, white ceramic against the dark wood surface, and Kenma glances around the room to find each table seems to have a different plant. He snaps a picture of it.

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

[Image Attached]

i’m at this table

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

thanks!

i know what you look like already though

wait that came out creepy

bokuto and hinata have both shown me pictures of you before!

Kenma blinks at his phone, unsure of how to respond.

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

sorry!! 

cross my heart i haven’t stalked you, kenma-san （ つ̥︣﹏╰̥̥）

also i’m almost at the cafe. just headed up the stairs now

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

okay

The door chimes quietly and Kenma looks up to see a tall, lanky man with messy hair step inside the cafe.

His eyes sweep over the tables, and then he seems to find Kenma. He grins crookedly, making his way over to the table.

“Kenma-san?”

“Yeah,” Kenma says, and he pushes his chair back to stand. He really hates meeting people for the first time—the stiff formality of it included. He ducks his head as Kuroo does the same, and then Kuroo is laughing. 

“I can have Bokuto and Hinata vouch for me about the picture thing,” Kuroo says, and his voice is two parts deep and one part smooth, picking up their messaging conversation easily in-person.

“That’s okay,” Kenma murmurs, and he wants to sit down again. 

“I’ll go grab a drink,” Kuroo says easily. “Be right back.”

Kenma nods, grateful that Kuroo isn’t prolonging the awkwardness, and sinks back into his chair, wrapping both hands around his mug.

He watches as Kuroo strolls up to the counter, black jeans clinging to his long legs. 

If Shouyou and Koutarou have both talked about Kenma around Kuroo, there’s a chance Kuroo already knows a little bit about him. Maybe that will cut down on the small talk.

Maybe Kenma should’ve asked Shouyou about _Kuroo_ , but Kenma is quick to catalogue things about people anyway.

The woman working the cashier smiles brightly at Kuroo as he orders, for one. Kenma doesn’t think she smiled at him. He’s also wearing a pair of sneakers that were probably once white, but now are more gray and brown, scuffed and stained. From the shoes and the build, it’s obvious he’s athletic. 

Kenma expects him to bring back black coffee to the table, and is surprised when it’s actually a mug of chamomile, tea bag sticking to the side of the cup. 

Kuroo sits down in the chair across from Kenma. He’s still smiling slightly, a lopsided thing that makes Kenma understand why the woman at the counter beamed right back at him. He’s good-looking, in a rakish sort of way. Like he’d be a protagonist from a video game. Or if not the protagonist, the smirking villain that players secretly love.

It’s only when Kuroo cocks his head to the side that Kenma realizes he’s just been observing Kuroo in silence, and he sinks a little bit lower in his seat, nestling down into his coat. 

“I should probably start with the basics, right?” Kuroo asks, seeming pretty unphased, and Kenma gives a small nod. “Maguro has an automatic feeder, so really you’d only need to come by once a day for fresh water and the litter box. He comes across as kind of aloof at first, but he’s actually really down to cuddle if you just like,” Kuroo makes a vague gesture with one of his hands, “sit still for a bit on the couch.”

Kenma nods again.

“I have the floor heating set for automatic, but Maguro is a giant ham for the kotatsu, so if you decide you’re cool with taking care of him, he’d love it if you turned it on and hung out with him for a bit,” Kuroo continues. “And I’ll like, take you out for multiple dinners when I get back to make it up to you.”

“It’s okay,” Kenma says quietly. He picks up his mocha, looking down at the mostly melted whipped cream on the surface. “I’m happy to do it.”

“Oh,” Kuroo says. “That’s great, thank you. I’d still like to pay you back somehow, though.”

Kenma shrugs and takes a sip, getting a little bit of cream on his lip that he licks off before slouching in his chair again. “I like cats. I don’t mind.”

“You’ll love Maguro especially,” Kuroo says with a casual sort of confidence, and Kenma glances up at him and finds that crooked grin on his face again. “My apartment’s only about a five minute walk south of here. Is that close enough to your place that it won’t be inconvenient?”

“Yeah,” Kenma says. He sets his mug back down and watches as Kuroo pulls out his tea bag, leaving it on the saucer. 

“Cool,” Kuroo says, and his grin brightens a little bit. Kenma realizes it’s genuine now, while before it was more of something that Kuroo just _does_. “Hinata told you it’d be two weeks, right? I’ll be gone from the twelfth until about the twenty-fifth.”

Kenma makes a quiet noise of affirmation.

“Can you come down a little before then? I can show you where everything is in the apartment.”

It’s another forced interaction with a stranger, since Kuroo is still most definitely a stranger, but Kenma nods again anyway. Kuroo isn’t too bad so far. And Kenma would get to see a cat.

“Maybe some time next week?”

“Yeah,” Kenma says, then, thinking about how greasy his hair feels and how much he doesn’t want to do it right after work, “Saturday?”

“That works for me.” He blows on the top of his tea before taking a sip. “We can message about the time later.”

“Okay.” Kenma goes back to his mocha too, the cafe’s quiet music suddenly seeming loud in the silence that sits between him and Kuroo.

But Kuroo simply keeps drinking his tea, leaning back in his chair. He looks at Kenma across the table, and it’s a weird thing for Kenma—observing someone observing him. Usually no one really pays much attention to Kenma. And he prefers it that way.

He hides behind his hair instead, letting it brush over his cheeks as he leans forward. 

“Hey,” Kuroo says, and his voice is still light and casual, though there’s something almost curious about it now. “Do you want to see some pictures of Maguro?” 

Kenma blinks up at him. “Sure.”

Kuroo grins—the real bright one again—and sets his tea down to pull his phone out from his jacket pocket. He takes only a few seconds to scroll, and then he slides it over to Kenma.

Maguro is a short-hair cat with a mostly white coat, save for a little black on his chin. In the picture, he’s got his paws up on what Kenma assumes is Kuroo’s leg, eyes bright and watchful as he looks into the camera.

Kenma feels his lips curl up. “He’s cute.”

“He's the _cutest_ , Kenma-san,” Kuroo specifies with a laugh. 

Kenma is still smiling when he passes Kuroo’s phone back. “Maybe.”

Kuroo’s eyes glitter at the response, seeming surprised again. “I guess he’ll have to prove it to you.”

Kenma hums quietly. “Next Saturday.”

“He’ll be ready. I’ll have him practice his shiny-eyed begging so _you_ can practice how to resist it.”

Kenma laughs under his breath, ducking into his jacket again.

“He’s so good at it, it’s awful,” Kuroo continues, and it sounds like he’s laughing too. “You have to steel your heart or he’ll be going through a bag of treats a day.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“Maybe,” Kuroo drawls out the word, and when Kenma peers up at him he finds that Kuroo’s eyes are still bright with amusement. “Bokuto is an absolute push-over with him.”

“Not surprising,” Kenma says, and he finds that his shoulders are relaxing slightly, even if he’s still slouched in his chair.

Kuroo just launches into a story involving Koutarou and Maguro and an entire mackerel forfeited, and Kenma laughs twice more before he finishes his mocha and Kuroo has drained the last of his tea.

“You met him a coding camp, right?” Kuroo asks as they take their mugs back to the front counter.

“Mm. Shouyou, too.” It was over the break between Kenma’s second and third year of university. Three weeks of coding, scholarships offered for students who applied. Kenma had done it only because one of his professors had told him to, submitting the application at nearly four in the morning one Tuesday. 

The coding classes for the camp were great. Easy and simple and low effort for the most part. It was the other students there who made it hard. 

He ate lunch by himself on the campus of a strange, small tech university for two days before a kid with dyed orange hair plopped down next to him in the common area, introducing himself as Hinata Shouyou, and the day after that, he did the same thing with a bright, noisy, and far too enthusiastic student named Bokuto Koutarou in tow. 

Kenma loves them both.

“Bokuto and I met in high school,” Kuroo says, a step ahead of him on the staircase. “We both played volleyball. He was even more ridiculous then, if you can believe it. It’s always been a good thing with him though, you know?”

Kenma thinks about it for a moment before nodding, though Kuroo is facing ahead. “He’s good,” Kenma agrees. “Just loud.”

Kuroo snorts. His laughter, throughout the course of the last forty-five minutes, is consistently odd and unattractive in different ways. This time it sounds a little bit like he’s got bad congestion. 

Kenma isn’t sure why, but he likes it anyway. 

“Thanks for doing this,” Kuroo says as they step outside the building, biting cold night and white streetlights greeting them. “We’ll figure out a time for Saturday?”

Kenma nods. 

“Sweet,” Kuroo says, and he takes a hand through his hair, somehow making it even messier. “Are you headed that way?”

“I’m a few blocks east,” Kenma answers. 

“Okay. Good night for now, Kenma-san,” Kuroo tells him, grinning again. “I’ll send you some of Maguro’s sad begging face tonight so you can prepare yourself.”

Kenma’s mouth twitches. “Goodnight.”

Just as Kenma is getting into bed around one, his phone lights up. 

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

[Image Attached]

good luck going up against these eyes kenma-san ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

thanks

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

hehe i’ll send pics of maguro to you any time 

Kenma can practically hear Kuroo’s strange laugh along with the message, and for a second night in a row, Kenma falls asleep with his phone in his hand.

This time, he thinks he can feel himself smiling as he slips off into a dreamless sleep.

-

Kenma hates work dinners.

It’s Friday night and everything smells like beer and his manager ordered the table nomihodai and Kenma just wants to leave.

“Come on, Kozume-kun,” Watanabe says, pushing one of the beers the waiter just dropped off towards him. “Don’t be rude.”

Kenma stares at his hands, which are in his lap, and wonders if he’ll get reprimanded for ditching if he stands up and walks out right now.

“Let him be.” It’s another one of Kenma’s seniors, Shimizu. She speaks quietly, but everyone can still hear, and everyone _listens_. 

She’s Kenma’s favorite for many reasons.

His eyes flick up to meet hers, and he gives her a tiny, grateful nod.

She seems to understand, simply smiling slightly before pushing her glasses up her nose and sipping a little bit of her drink.

Once the first senior leaves, Kenma ducks out, slipping away with a quiet goodbye to his manager and team lead.

His stomach sloshes unpleasantly even though he’s not even tipsy, mostly anxiety and the “ _don’t be rude,”_ from Watanabe, who always tells him he needs to stop mumbling at meetings.

Kenma catches a bus down the street from the izakaya, and he rests his forehead against the cold glass of the window and tries not to let the feelings crawl their way up from his stomach so his throat, where he knows they’re more than happy to wrap around his neck and squeeze.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

[Image Attached]

Kenma lets out a breath that shudders a little more than he’d like it to, and he looks at the picture of Maguro, all soft fur and golden eyes. 

He really, really wants to pet a cat right now. 

When he was a kid, he always looked forward to going home after school because he could bury his face in his cat’s fur and listen to her purr until the day felt a little less overwhelming. He could forget the way it felt when the teachers told him with increasing levels of frustration to speak up, forget the way the kids whispered about why he always ate lunch alone, forget the way that he felt like he didn’t fit right anywhere he went. And then he’d go to his room and load up a game on his handheld, and his cat would curl up against his leg, and he’d throw himself into a world where things were beautiful and weird and there was no one around to act like he was existing the wrong way.

Kenma doesn’t answer Kuroo’s message, but he’s done that several times this week and it hasn’t seemed to bother Kuroo.

Instead, Kenma walks from the bus stop to his apartment in the cold and the dark. 

His apartment is quiet when he steps inside, and he flips on the light by the door as he takes off his shoes. 

He stays up until three playing games and forgetting, and he levels up and he completes quests and he tells himself that he’s okay.

-

“Hey.”

Kuroo is waiting with his door open, leaning against the frame. He already said hello when Kenma used the building’s console to buzz apartment 303, but now he says it again with the accompanying grin that Kenma already finds familiar. 

“Hi,” Kenma answers. 

Kuroo moves aside to let Kenma in, and Kenma steps out of his shoes as the door closes behind them.

The afternoon sunlight is muted by the simple curtains around Kuroo’s apartment, and everything smells a little bit like it’s been recently cleaned—bright and chemical, and Kenma’s nose itches. He rubs the back of his coat sleeve beneath it.

“Sorry, I just cleaned. I’ll open a window for a bit, if you don’t mind being a little cold.”

Kenma blinks, slowly lowering his hand as he watches Kuroo walk past him to the nearest window. It’s another thing to catalogue about Kuroo. He observes, but he observes _well_ , too. “Thanks.”

Kuroo cranks open the window, leaning a little bit over the small shelving unit beneath it. He’s wearing sweatpants today, and a t-shirt that reveals his wiry arms are every bit as leanly muscular as his legs. “Maguro is sleeping on my bed right now. Might be best to let him come to you on his own terms, so I can just show you where things are for the time being. Did you want anything to drink?”

Kenma shakes his head automatically. It’s always felt like he’s demanding if he says yes, though honestly it’s been a long time since he visited anyone’s home. He went to see Koutarou on New Year’s Day after Koutarou dragged him to the shrine near his apartment, but before that—before that Kenma can’t remember.

Kuroo just nods. “If you want water while you’re here, I have a filter in the refrigerator. Feel free to use it whenever. Today, too, if you want. There’s also tea that you’re more than welcome to have.”

The apartment is still a little cluttered, even if Kuroo cleaned it today. There’s a stack of magazines on the kotatsu table along with an empty beer bottle and a mug, and there’s a windbreaker draped over the back of a stool at the small kitchen bar. 

Kuroo is thorough, showing Kenma the bags of cat food, where the treats are kept, the litterbox, the stash of cat toys. He’s halfway through explaining where to take the trash out, both of them sitting beneath the kotatsu, when Maguro pads out into the main room.

Kenma glances his way once, sees the watchful way Maguro is staring back at him, and then turns his attention back to his hands where they rest on top of the table.

“Looks like someone finally had enough sleep,” Kuroo jokes. “Come on, Kenma-san won’t bite.”

“Or scratch,” Kenma says quietly, and his lips twitch when Kuroo responds with a cackle.

“He’s already nicer than you, Maguro,” Kuroo says. Then, to Kenma, “He’s actually pretty calm. He’s only scratched me once, and it was when he had this ear infection and was being understandably a bit of an asshole.”

From the corner of his eye, Kenma can see Maguro walking closer, swishing his tail as he approaches. Kuroo falls silent as Maguro tentatively sniffs Kenma’s side.

And then he climbs on top of Kenma’s lap, curling up over the blanket.

“Holy shit,” Kuroo whispers.

Kenma blinks at Maguro, unsure if he should try to pet him yet, then looks back up at Kuroo. 

“He’s usually really shy around strangers,” Kuroo says, and he keeps his voice low. His expression is half incredulous and half—half something warm and fond that Kenma isn’t entirely sure he could label. 

“Mm.” Kenma gets that. Maybe Maguro picked up on it. 

“Well, I’m glad,” Kuroo says. “Kind of annoyed because it took him a full week to sit on _my_ lap when I first brought him home, though.”

Maguro closes his eyes, and Kenma’s heart twists a little bit at how easily Maguro is trusting him. Carefully, he lowers his hand and gently touches the top of Maguro’s head.

It doesn’t seem to disturb Maguro, and Kenma strokes his back, fur soft beneath his fingers.

“I think he won’t even miss me,” Kuroo sighs, but he’s smiling slightly, elbow on the table and chin propped in his hand as he looks at Kenma and Maguro. 

It’s a little bit easier to talk with a cat on his lap and the repetitive, careful petting motion, and Kenma finds himself asking, “Where are you going?”

“Nagoya,” Kuroo says. He stretches, and his feet bump lightly against Kenma’s before he draws back, rolling his neck. “My grandmother has an upcoming surgery, and I’m the only one who could get work off to stay with her.”

Kenma doesn’t know why he assumed it was a work trip, but he ducks his head as he pets Maguro again. He doesn’t know how to ask if Kuroo’s grandmother is okay, or what’s appropriate to say now. Kuroo’s voice is casual, but Kenma thinks that’s just how he talks. He reaches instead for a topic that might be less sensitive. “What do you do for work?”

“Physical therapist,” Kuroo says easily, and if he thinks the subject change is odd, he doesn’t comment on it. “You’re in game design?”

Kenma nods, and stops petting Maguro when his ear twitches. He braces his hands on the floor instead, leaning back slightly. 

“Bokuto said you were his rival?” Kuroo asks. 

Kenma lets out a little groan. “We’re not rivals. We just work at different companies.”

“Designing rival games,” Kuroo says, and his eyebrow is quirked as he grins. “That will compete as rivals in the gaming market.”

Kenma’s lips curl up in the corners, and he and Kuroo talk about Koutarou and games and then high school volleyball, and Kuroo declares that _he_ was Koutarou’s rival back then, and Kenma laughs and light shifts in the apartment as afternoon fades into evening. 

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Kuroo asks when it’s nearly seven, and Maguro has moved from Kenma’s lap to a spot on the floor with his back to the blanket between Kuroo and Kenma.

Kenma’s throat is dry and he’s tired from falling asleep so late last night. He doesn’t think he wants to stay. Not tonight.

“When I get back,” Kuroo says easily, when Kenma doesn’t speak. “If you want.”

Kenma nods at that, and finds it surprisingly genuine. He thinks he does want to have dinner with Kuroo. And two weeks is enough time to get ready for more socializing.

“You’ll send me pictures of Maguro, right?” Kuroo asks as Kenma puts his shoes back on, leaning against the edge of the kitchen counter.

“Mm,” Kenma says. “Maybe a video.” 

Kuroo clutches his heart. “A _video_ , Kenma-san. You’ll keep me alive through this difficult period of separation.”

Kenma hides his smile in his coat. “Dramatic,” he mumbles.

Kuroo lets out another ugly, perfect laugh. “Wait until I tell Hinata and Bokuto how cruel you are to me.”

There aren’t many people who tease Kenma. His older cousin, Koutarou, Yaku (but Kenma hasn’t seen Yaku much since he graduated from high school, though they still message sometimes). Shouyou doesn’t tease so much as he acts like a human battering ram that occasionally scuffs against Kenma.

It’s almost nice to have Kuroo tease him now. 

Kenma just shrugs, though he feels his smile grow the smallest bit. “He won’t be surprised.”

“We’ll see,” Kuroo says, and he’s wearing a lazy grin that’s a little different around the edges from his others. “You got the code for the front door and the key to this one?”

Kenma nods, and he puts his hand in his coat pocket, fingers closing around the cold metal of Kuroo’s spare key. 

“Cool. Thanks for this. Really,” Kuroo says, and he opens the door to the hallway.

Kenma steps over the threshold, already a little bit colder, and glances back at Kuroo. He almost wishes he’d agreed to stay for dinner. Not quite. But almost. 

“Kuroo-san?”

Kuroo blinks at him, and he looks startlingly like a cat at the moment, slow blinking his narrow eyes. “Yeah?”

“Um. Your grandmother—good luck.” The words are stilted and awkward and don’t quite convey what Kenma means to say, and he presses his lips together and looks away.

“Thank you.” Kuroo’s voice is soft, and Kenma risks a glance back to find another new smile on his face. This one is smaller than the others, but it looks real. Like he understood what Kenma meant even if it came out wrong. 

Kenma turns and walks back down the hall, a confused tumble of feelings rolling around his stomach like a ball of string. But somehow, he’s not worried about it reaching for his throat.

-

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

[Image Attached]

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

oh my god

i miss him already

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

you left this morning 

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

yeah but he’s so cute (ง'̀-'́)ง

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

why do you look like you want to fight him 

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

because he’s so cute??

it’s science, kenma-san

sometimes when something is really, really cute

you have the urge to fight 

not like violently

but (ง'̀-'́)ง

**To Kuroo Tetsurou**

that doesn’t sound like real science 

**From Kuroo Tetsurou**

i just looked it up

cute aggression or playful aggression 

s c i e n c e 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

strange 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

wow you’re being cruel to me again 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

[Image Attached]

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

all is forgiven! 

-

By midweek, Kenma has started dropping by his apartment first before going to take care of Maguro so he can bring his handheld.

They have a routine.

Kenma will first give Maguro his favorite scratches behind his left ear, and then he’ll give Maguro a few treats while murmuring everything and nothing about his day at work. Recently it’s involved complaining about Watanabe, who has started commenting loudly when the others leave for lunch break how it’s not very team-like when not everyone goes, eyeing Kenma with his packed lunch at his desk. 

After treats and a few more pets, Kenma cleans the litter box, washes his hands and changes Maguro’s water, and then he makes himself a cup of Kenma’s tea and curls up under the kotatsu with Maguro on his lap. 

It’s a good routine.

Kenma never really drank tea much before, but now he finds when he leaves work that he’s thinking about getting over to Kuroo’s apartment to pet Maguro and to make himself tea. 

And to message Kuroo.

It’s not like they really talk about much. It’s mostly inane things and teasing and pictures of Maguro. It’s good, though. Really good. And once Kenma starts bringing his handheld, he stays until nearly ten, Maguro purring quietly on his lap.

**From Shouyou**

kenma!!!!! 

**To Shouyou**

what 

**From Shouyou**

are you free this weekend???

**To Shouyou**

yeah

just pet-sitting 

[Image Attached]

**From Shouyou**

THE SWEETEST CAT 

how’s everything going???

also i’ll buy bus tickets if you want company ^^

**To Shouyou**

it’s okay

and yeah 

**From Shouyou**

yeah!!!!!

i’ll tell bokuto-san that i’m coming up?

**To Shouyou**

sure

we can do lunch together 

**From Shouyou**

AT THAT BARBECUE PLACE

KENMAAAA THE BARBECUE PLACE PLEASE

**To Shouyou**

okay

you don’t have to yell

**From Shoyou**

YES I DO IM SO EXCITED 

**To Shoyou**

me too

**From Shouyou**

^^ can’t wait to see you

Kenma scratches gently down Maguro’s back. “Shouyou thinks you’re the sweetest,” he tells Maguro quietly. 

Maguro purrs a little bit louder, and Kenma smiles.

-

The weekend with Shouyou visiting flies by, a flurry of orange hair and a far too loud voice that Kenma doesn’t mind as much as he probably should. There’s something electric about Shouyou, and even when they meet up with Koutarou, who is essentially a live wire, it’s somehow not too much.

Or it is, but Kenma is okay with it. 

Shouyou sleeps on the futon Friday and Saturday night—and goes with Kenma to check on Maguro, though Maguro hides under the bed for an hour and never lets Shouyou touch him.

But by Sunday afternoon, Shouyou leaves again, and Kenma stands in his quiet apartment and doesn’t like how empty it feels.

He grabs his handheld and goes to Kuroo’s apartment a few hours early, and stays there with Maguro on his lap as the sun sets beyond the windows. 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

[Image Attached]

Kenma leaves a little before ten, and Kuroo still hasn’t responded.

It shouldn’t be weird.

 _Kenma_ is really bad at answering messages. Sometimes it’ll take him days to respond to something Yaku sent him, and when he goes too long without answering his mom, she’ll simply call him to check in.

But Kuroo is usually fast to answer. 

Kenma frowns at his blank screen as he goes to bed that night, and a flash of worry flits through the back of his mind.

He doesn’t know how serious the surgery for Kuroo’s grandmother was. Or even what day it was meant to be. 

It’s not Kenma’s place to ask, though. Kuroo didn’t offer up more than the information Kenma already has. And things might be fine. Kuroo just might be away from his phone or not be in the mood for answering. 

Kenma feels his chest grow a little tight, and he curls up beneath his sheets and hopes that everything is okay in Nagoya.

-

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

[Image Attached]

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

ohhh what a good boy!

did you give him treats?

Kenma breathes out a sigh of relief. He reads the messages twice and doesn’t think Kuroo’s tone sounds _bad_ , and takes it to mean things are still alright there.

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

yeah

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

good because he deserves them for being so sweet

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

he thinks so

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

hehehe a healthy ego is a good thing, kenma-san

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

science?

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

yeah absolutely 

Kenma laughs quietly, carefully tracing a finger over Maguro’s ear, and then scrolls through their messages. 

Kuroo’s asked how Kenma is doing a few times. Probably to check in about pet-sitting, but it’s also personable. It wouldn’t be strange if Kenma said it now.

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

how are things?

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

which things?

Kenma lets out a small groan.

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

-.- 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

oh my god

is that an emoticon 

from you?????

wow incredible i’m going to screenshot this

have you ever sent one to hinata or bokuto?

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

-.-

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

TWO

wow 

i’m honored kenma-san

truly 

Kenma gives up. His face is oddly warm, and he reaches for the switch on the kotatsu to turn it off. Maguro stretches and hops down from Kenma’s lap, and he gives Maguro one more scratch behind his ear before he leaves the apartment, locking the door behind him.

It’s not until he’s halfway home that his phone buzzes in his coat pocket.

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

apparently hinata and bokuto keep a running tally of how many emojis you send them, and with my screenshots it’s just now broken into the double digits

and things are okay! just pretty tired 

thanks for checking in

Kenma hums quietly.

He doesn’t think Kuroo is doing _really_ okay. Something about using humor to deflect and then circling back only to give a generic response doesn’t seem great.

Kenma’s mother was sick a lot when he still lived at home. She was immuno-suppressed from other health conditions and medications, and Kenma remembers picking up prescriptions when his dad was working long hours, making trips to the grocery after school to get more instant meals since the few times he’d tried to cook for his mom he’d burned things horrendously and she’d very kindly told him on the third try that maybe cooking wasn’t going to be his calling.

It was hard seeing her sick so often. Even now, when Kuroo visits home, half of the time she’s not feeling well. 

Kenma never talks about it, really, because it’s not _about_ him. But sometimes everyone is just—tired. 

He reads Kuroo’s message again and by the time he’s back in his apartment, he knows what he wants to say.

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

shouyou and koutarou need new hobbies

and yeah

it’s really good that your grandmother has you 

Kenma fiddles with his phone, then sends off one more message.

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

don’t forget to take care of yourself, too

It’s just shy of overstepping. Maybe it _is_ overstepping. He doesn’t know why he cares so much either way.

This is why Kenma doesn’t like meeting new people. Aside from the initial part, where strangers are strangers and nine times out of ten they don’t want to interact with Kenma after five minutes of being in the same room, there’s the part that comes after.

The part where Kenma cares too much and doesn’t know what to do with all of it.

He barely knows Kuroo. It’s stupid to be worrying this much. But he doesn’t know how to stop, now that Kuroo has gone from stranger to—to acquaintance? 

Kenma has just finished pulling on pajama pants when his phone lights up, and his heart skips a nervous beat as he walks over to his desk to pick it up, telling himself that he’s making mountains out of molehills.

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

i won’t

thank you 

and thanks for sending me pictures of maguro every day

getting notifications from you is always a bright spot ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

Kenma’s knees nearly wobble in relief, and he flops down on the bed. He looks at the last message again and wonders if Kuroo is really _that_ sleep-deprived. Kenma is far from a bright spot to anyone. 

He probably just means seeing pictures of Maguro brightens his day. 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

[Image Attached]

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

AHHHHH

he really is the cutest (ง'̀-'́)ง

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

good night 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

good night, kenma-san~~

-

Kuroo gets back on the afternoon of the twenty-fifth. He sends Kenma five pictures of Maguro, and then asks when he can buy Kenma dinner to thank him.

There’s weird, warring feelings in Kenma’s stomach that night, because he wishes he was at Kuroo’s apartment taking care of Maguro. He wishes that he could still go over with his handheld every evening after work. It’s like an empty space inside him. But burrowing in that space is something worse.

He’s afraid that dinner will be it.

He’s going to go to dinner with Kuroo tomorrow night, and then there won’t be a reason for them to talk anymore.

Kenma isn’t oblivious enough to not _know_ why he doesn’t want tomorrow to be the end, but he also refuses to put a name to it.

So Friday night, he gets home from work and ignores how silent his apartment is, showers and changes and dries his hair, and goes to meet Kuroo at exit two with his lips pressed together in a thin line and his fingers balling up lint in his coat pockets.

Kuroo is early this time, and he waves to Kenma when he sees him. He grins, full and bright, all messy dark hair and stupidly long legs.

“Hey,” Kuroo says, and his cheeks are pink from the cold. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, but he looks—good. He looks healthy and happy and Kenma nods to himself at that. “There’s this restaurant I’ve been wanting to try, if you’re down? They do pasta.”

“Sure,” Kenma says.

“Sweet. It’s only a few stops away.”

They swipe their transit cards and stick close to each other in the station, Kenma always just one step behind Kuroo as they get on the subway in the direction that Kenma takes for work.

“I think Maguro already misses you,” Kuroo says as the car lurches forward. 

Kenma tips a little bit to the side, falling into Kuroo’s chest.

Kuroo, tall enough to easily hold the grab bar with one large hand, steadies Kenma with the other. 

“Sorry,” Kenma murmurs.

“No worries,” Kuroo answers easily, and when someone pushes past them both, he lifts his arm a little bit around Kenma’s side so the woman’s bag doesn’t jostle Kenma.

His arm is lowered again in another second, nonchalant and good in such a small way.

Kenma’s chest aches.

They don’t talk much over the next few minutes, and Kuroo gently taps Kenma’s arm just before their stop, which turns out to be the one Kenma takes for work.

“The company building is near here,” Kenma says quietly as they make their way through the station.

“Yeah? So I just made you commute to work again?” Kuroo laughs, snorting a little bit.

“It’s fine. As long as I don’t have to actually go back to work.” 

“Definitely not,” Kuroo says, and he grins at Kenma again. “Tonight is for pasta and cat pictures only.”

“I sent you all of the cat pictures I took.”

“No, I meant for me so show you. Unless you don’t miss Maguro as much as he misses you?” Kuroo asks, a very obviously fake pout in his voice.

“It’s been two days,” Kenma answers flatly.

“I know! You must be deprived,” Kuroo says, and Kenma is a little too aware of how that feels close to the truth. 

Kuroo walks quickly, and Kenma hurried to keep up with him in the cold rather than attempt to slow the pace. They pass almost right by the company building, and Kenma points it out only for Kuroo to say, “Ah yes, the home base for Bokuto’s rival.” 

The restaurant is small, tucked away in an alley. The lights are a warm yellow inside, though, and they wait for a few minutes for a table to open up.

“But, um, it’ll be an easy fix,” Kenma says, aware that he’s been talking for almost a minute straight. He’s not entirely sure how they even got on the topic of Kenma’s work this week, but Kuroo is just nodding and listening and asking a question here and there. He runs his palms along the inside of his pockets. “Is work going to be busy since you were away?”

“Nah,” Kuroo says. “I dropped by today and next week things will be pretty much routine again. I’ll have a new patient, but that’s it.”

Kenma blinks at him, and thinks that Kuroo makes sense as a physical therapist. He has the easy charm and the people skills, and he’s also—patient. Careful. He watches and he learns and he considers. “Did you always want to be a physical therapist?”

They get called for a table then, and Kenma catalogues more and more. Kuroo wanted to be a professional volleyball player when he was a middle school student, and he loved volleyball in high school, but by then he’d seen enough of his teammates hurt and recovering that new dimension to sports and health opened up to him. 

“Although plenty of the people I work with don’t play sports,” Kuroo says, and he grins over the menu. “A surprising amount of injuries occur while drunk.”

Kenma ducks his head and laughs, and then catalogues the way, when he looks up, that Kuroo’s grin has widened and his eyes are bright and he looks happy to have made Kenma laugh.

 _Maybe,_ the feelings warring in his stomach say. _Maybe._

They’ve only just ordered when there’s a tap on Kenma’s shoulder, and Kenma shifts in his seat.

It’s Watanabe.

From work.

_Fuck._

Kenma stares up at him, taking in the sneer curling his lips and the two buttons undone on the top of shirt and the slight flush on his cheeks like maybe he’s had a few glasses of wine. 

“Kozume-kun,” Watanabe says, and he’s standing over Kenma’s seat in a way that makes Kenma shrink even though he should be standing up and acknowledging his senior. “You’re actually _eating_ with someone?”

Kenma’s stomach lurches. “Watanabe-san.”

“ _Senpai_ ,” Watanabe says, and the sneer on his lips spreads to his eyes, hard and angry.

Kenma looks down at his lap, shoulders hunching. He knows Kuroo is watching at him across the table and he wants to disappear. He hasn’t eaten anything since lunch—lunch at his desk—but he thinks he might be sick. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Kuroo says, shattering the awful stare-down between Watanabe and the side of Kenma’s face, separated only by the curtain of Kenma’s hair. 

“We haven’t,” Watanabe answers, and Kenma can feel his eyes move to Kuroo. “I wasn’t aware he had any friends though, from how he acts at work.”

Kenma’s hands twitch in his lap. He’s taking in everything and nothing. Kuroo takes in a sharp breath. Someone’s spoon scrapes too loudly against their bowl two tables away. Watanabe has his hand on the back of Kenma’s chair. A little girl laughs somewhere behind him.

And then there’s a woman’s voice, close, and she's tugging on Watanabe’s arm, telling him that their friends are at the entrance and it’s time to go.

Kenma stares at the dark wood of the table top, and he—he can’t breathe.

Watanabe is gone, drunkenly stumbling away, and Kenma still can’t breathe.

“Kenma?”

He’s always existed the wrong way.

“Kenma, hey, do you want to get some air?”

Kuroo is speaking, and Kenma is vaguely aware of the words. He shakes his head before pushing his chair back, and he walks to the left side of the restaurant where the sign for the bathroom is.

He locks the door behind him and leans against it before sliding down to the tile floor, drawing his knees to his chest.

He’s well-versed in hiding in bathrooms.

There’s a numb dizziness creeping over him, lungs prickling with pain, and he takes a hiccuped breath in.

He’s eight again, in the elementary school bathroom during a break because his only friend is absent today. He’s twelve and in middle school and hiding in a stall because there’s a presentation in the next class and he can’t breathe when he thinks about it. He’s nineteen and in his first year of university and he needs somewhere to be between classes that isn’t full of people because his palms get sweaty just walking in the overcrowded hallways sometimes.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Kenma presses his forehead to the tops of his knees and forces himself to take a few more breaths in. 

His fingers are shaking when he reaches for his phone.

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

hey i’m on the other side of the door

if you need some time that’s okay 

i was a really anxious kid and am pretty experienced in hiding out in bathrooms though

so if you want someone in there i’m your guy

A surprised, choked-off laugh escapes from Kenma’s lips. 

He can’t imagine Kuroo hiding in a bathroom. And if he did, he’s not sure how Kuroo managed to be so—so _him_ now while Kenma has clearly not grown out of anxiety attacks and hiding across from toilets.

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

or we can leave if you want

i remember i always felt pretty queasy after 

i can pay and wait for you outside?

sorry i’m messaging a lot, i’ll stop now

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

dont apologize 

i’m sorr

sorry 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

you have nothing to apologize for

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

i do

and yeah

i don’t think i can eat right now

sorry 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

that’s fine! i’m going up to the front to pay

i’ll wait just outside the entrance 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

thanks

Kenma’s hands are still shaking, but he braces his back against the door and stands, pocketing his phone again before going to the sink.

His eyes are bloodshot in the mirror. His nose is red, too, and he definitely looks like he just finished crying.

He feels hollow. It’s another familiar feeling he’s been acquainted with over the years, and he turns on the tap, splashing cold water on his face.

If he wasn’t so numb, he’d probably be so humiliated he wouldn’t be able to leave the bathroom.

But there’s the washed-out gray that’s taken over his head, and he opens the door and walks through the restaurant, aware that no one is looking at him but feeling the ghost of their eyes all the same.

Kuroo is standing outside just as he said he’d be, and he has Kenma’s coat in hand.

He smiles at Kenma, and it’s another new one. Even Kenma’s foggy brain can catalogue that. It’s small and soft and a little sad, and he shakes out Kenma’s coat before passing it to him, and Kenma slips it on numbly.

“Sorry,” Kenma says, and his voice is quiet and scratchy.

“I meant it when I said you have nothing to apologize for,” Kuroo tells him. The streetlight shines from behind him, glinting on his hair. “You can say it if you feel like you need to, but I promise I’m not—I’m not mad or anything. At you, that is. Watanabe’s a dick and I’m definitely mad at him.”

Kenma laughs again, more a puff of warm air than anything else, but Kuroo smiles, this one more familiar and crooked. “I’m not good with people,” Kenma finds himself saying. 

“I think that’s pretty subjective,” Kuroo answers after a moment. A group of girls come up the alley, headed toward the restaurant, and Kuroo cocks his head to the side. “Want to walk somewhere?”

Kenma doesn’t know why Kuroo isn’t simply saying goodbye. Why he isn’t walking away or frowning at Kenma. Why he’s still here and still looking at Kenma the same way he did before.

“There’s a park up the street,” Kenma says into his coat.

“Lead the way.”

Kenma does, but Kuroo stays right next to him, their arms brushing every few steps.

The cold cuts through some of the fog in Kenma’s head, and the deep-set, horrible embarrassment begins to deep in.

“I eat alone at work every day,” Kenma says quietly. His eyes are stinging again, but he’s too tired to cry. “At my desk. Most of the seniors think it’s rude. I don’t mean to be. I tried going to lunch with them a couple times and it was—bad.”

Kuroo’s shoulder brushes against his again, and when Kenma doesn’t continue, he says, “you have friends.”

Kenma blinks, and tilts his face slightly to look at Kuroo.

“Watanabe said something about how he didn’t think you had friends. If he heard the way Hinata and Bokuto talk about you, I think his giant, pretentious head might explode.”

Kenma coughs out another laugh, and his eyes burn a little bit more. “They were the ones who found me.”

“Yeah. And they’re the ones who routinely complain they don’t see you enough, and compete over how many emoticons you send them. Hinata told me once that you’re one of the best people he knows.”

Kuroo’s voice isn’t teasing. It’s light, but it’s honest. He’s looking at the dark street ahead of him.

Kenma feels, on top of everything else from tonight, so, so grateful that Shouyou and Koutarou found him over that lunch break two and a half years before.

They reach the park, mostly dead grass and barren trees in the winter cold, and they start to make a loop.

“Kuroo,” Kenma tries, and Kuroo just looks at him, expectant eyes and a soft hum to encourage Kenma to go on. Kenma shakes his head. “Thanks.”

“For taking you to a place near your work where we ran into your asshole co-worker?” 

Kenma purposely bumps their arms together. “You’re impossible.”

“I know, I know. It’s one of my finest traits, isn’t it?”

Kenma’s mouth twitches. “You have good traits?”

“I’m wounded,” Kuroo says, and he stops to lean against a tree that will be covered in cherry blossoms in a few week’s time.

“Hm,” Kenma says, and continues walking. 

Kuroo laughs and catches back up to him easily, and his eyes are beautiful even in the low glint of distant streetlights. 

They walk back to the station together, and this time there are open seats on the subway. 

Kenma lets their legs rest against each other. He feels scraped and achy, but Kuroo’s presence is like a careful salonpas stretched across his side. 

“If you want to try dinner again,” Kuroo says as they make their way up the steps of the station, “we can just do take-out at my apartment. That way you can see Maguro, too.”

Kenma takes in a slow breath, greeted with cool night air again. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

“Did you want to come over tonight?” Kuroo asks, and they’re nearly at the street corner that marks where Kenma will go left and Kuroo will continue on. 

“I think I just want to go to sleep,” Kenma says quietly.

“Sleep is good, too,” Kuroo agrees. 

It’s so _easy_. There’s nothing unhappy in Kuroo’s voice, nothing judgmental or annoyed, even after Kenma cried in the bathroom and Kuroo paid for a meal that neither of them ate.

They stop at the corner, a small cross-street without a light, and Kenma looks up at Kuroo.

“Message about take-out?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo answers, and the lazy, crooked grin is back. It’s a little softer now, like the edges have been melted the smallest bit. “Goodnight, Kenma.”

“Night, Kuroo,” Kenma murmurs.

He walks the rest of the way to his apartment with nothing but the sound of distant traffic and his heart beat. He still feels raw—bruised and not quite ready to think about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other.

But there’s also a gentle, careful thing that’s warm against his side. 

And it gets him home.

-

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

how is monday night for take-out?

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

7:30?

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

works for me!

what do you want?

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

i’ll get it 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

what?? no way (≖᷆︵︣≖)

it’s a thank you for pet-sitting 

you can get it next time 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

next time?

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

next time we get take-out?

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

:)

okay

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

ANOTHER EMOTICON 

screenshotting 

kenma do you want to send one more?

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

no

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

ಥ_ಥ

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

see you monday

**From Koutarou**

KENMA

WHY DOES KUROO GET SO MANY EMOTICONS

AND HE SEES TOU ALK THE TIME 

*YOU

*ALL

**To Koutarou**

<3

**From Koutarou**

kenma,,,,, 

KENMA 

(ɔ˘ ³(ˆ◡ˆc)

thank you i love you

also if you want to go visit shouyou with me some time next month let me know 

**To Koutarou**

okay

pick a weekend 

**From Koutarou**

YESSSSSSSSSS

LET ME CHECJ IUT TRAIN TJMES

*CHEJ

*CHEJ OUR 

NEVERMIND LOVE YOU BYE 

**From Shouyou**

kenma!!!!

<3 ????????

**To Shouyou**

<3

**From Shouyou**

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-

Kenma walks into Kuroo’s apartment Monday night and is hit with a wave of belonging.

Kuroo closes the door behind him and Maguro pads out for the bedroom and bumps his head against Kenma’s ankles and the light over the kotatsu is on and it feels like he should _be_ here. Like it’s okay to be here.

And Kuroo said next time.

“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Kuroo says, and he sounds half despondent and half fond.

“I gave him an extra treat every night.”

Kuroo gasps. “I knew it.”

Kenma rolls his eyes and slips out of his shoes before he bends down to scratch Maguro behind the ears. 

“How was stuff with work today?”

Kenma grimaces, and Maguro flops on his side, exposing his belly for Kenma to pet. “Watanabe avoided me. Which is good.”

“It is?”

Kenma looks up at him meaningfully.

“Right, right, it is. Wouldn’t want him to get decked in the face or anything.”

“Kuroo, you’ve never hit anyone before either.”

Kuroo splutters at him for a moment. “You don’t know that.”

Kenma straightens up again, though he still has to tilt his head back to look Kuroo in the eye. “I do.”

Kuroo manages to hold Kenma’s gaze for approximately three seconds before he snorts ungracefully. “Yeah, you do. Volleyball gets pretty violent though. I’ve had some spikes end up in people’s faces when they do really shitty receives.”

“And you felt bad whenever that happened,” Kenma guesses, voice flat.

Kuroo’s mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

Kenma lets out a quiet laugh, and his cheeks warm when Kuroo laughs, too, his eyes turning into perfect crescents. 

“You make me feel like I’m a marshmallow or something,” Kuroo complains without any real weight, and he steps back into the kitchen. 

“You’re a good person,” Kenma says.

Genuine surprise flashes across Kuroo’s face, and Kenma’s heart squeezes. 

Kuroo coughs before he grins crookedly and says, “you’ll give me a big head,” and asks if Kenma wants tea.

By the time the delivery arrives, Kenma’s tea is steeped and he’s perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. They talk as they eat, and Maguro puts his paws on their legs and makes his best begging face at them and they refuse to give him any of their tonkatsu.

Kuroo offers Kenma a beer after, and he takes it, both of them moving to the kotatsu.

Maguro curls up between them again, and at some point Kenma shifts and his ankles end up on top of Kuroo’s legs beneath the table but neither of them move.

It’s safe and warm and Kenma doesn’t leave until a little after eleven.

“Next time at your place then?” Kuroo asks at the door. 

“Yeah,” Kenma agrees with every intention to beat Kuroo at every game he owns.

Kuroo seems to know this is the plan from their conversation earlier in the night, and he grins at Kenma. “Night, Kenma.”

“Night, Kuroo.”

When Kenma lets himself back into his apartment, it’s quiet and empty, but his chest is full and somehow he finds that’s the only thing that matters.

-

Kenma’s phone buzzes on Thursday before work while he’s brushing his teeth.

He spits in the sink, wiping his hands off on his sweats before taking it out of his pocket.

Kuroo’s calling him. At seven in the morning. 

“Hello?”

“Kenma? Hey, sorry to call so early.” Kuroo’s voice is sleep-rough still, low and crackling.

“It’s fine, I was awake. What’s wrong?”

“I—I have to get back to Nagoya. I’m looking up the train schedule right now. I don’t know how long I’m going to stay this time. Shit, I’m really sorry to throw this back on you—”

“It’s okay.” Kenma can hear the stress and the fear bubbling up with every one of Kuroo’s words. “I’ll come pick up the key?”

“Kenma—”

“Kuroo. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

There’s a shaky exhale on the other end of the phone. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Buy your ticket. I’m on my way.”

Kenma doesn’t bother changing out of his sweatpants or threadbare sleep shirt. He jams on socks and throws on his coat, stumbles into his shoes and runs out the door.

Kenma’s never liked running.

It’s a waste of energy, in his opinion. But he doesn’t think much about that now as he jogs to Kuroo’s apartment on the familiar route, the last month of going back and forth and back and forth muscle memory.

The morning is cold, and his lungs start to hurt with the iciness of the air, but then Kuroo’s building is in view and Kenma keeps up the pace, punching in the code to the main doors and running up the steps to the third floor.

He knocks twice on Kuroo’s door, and a few moments later it swings open.

Kuroo’s hair is even more disheveled than usual, and his face is completely devoid of a smile.

“Kenma, hey, I’m really sor—”

“Did you get your ticket?” Kenma asks, moving into the entryway.

Kuroo nods. “Yeah. I need to leave in about twenty minutes to catch the train.”

“Are you packed?”

“Uh. I kind of just… threw things in a duffel bag, but yeah.”

Kenma steps out of his shoes. “As long as you have your wallet and ID.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen as he pats his pocket, and then he’s muttering under his breath as he heads into the bedroom.

The apartment is messier than Kenma’s seen it before, dishes in the sink and tea mugs littering the counter and the kotatsu table. Maguro is sitting by his food bowl, waiting for the timed feeder to drop his breakfast.

“Hey, Shiro,” Kenma says, and Maguro blinks up at him. “Your dad has to go away for a bit again. We’ll have to send him lots of pictures.”

Maguro lets out a contemplative meow that’s probably more directed at his impatience for his food to fall from the machine than any indication he knows what Kenma is saying, but it’s okay.

Kuroo comes back out of the bedroom holding his wallet. “Got it.”

“Good. You’re set then?”

“Yeah.” Kuroo slips his wallet into the pocket of the black sweatpants he’s wearing and takes a slow breath. “Thank you.”

Kenma goes to the electric kettle, filling it with water and turning it on. “Your grandmother?” he asks quietly.

Kuroo nods. He leans against the kitchen counter. “A reaction to some new medication they put her on, I think. She’s back in the hospital again.”

There are so many questions that Kenma wants to ask, but none of them would be helpful, so instead he grabs the last clean mug from the cabinet and fishes out a bag of chamomile. “If you need anything, call me. I can always mail something to you.”

Kuroo gives him a small smile, eyes tired but soft. “Thanks.”

The kettle finishes, and Kenma pours the water carefully into the mug before passing the tea to Kuroo. “Fifteen minutes,” Kenma says, glancing at the clock. He slides onto the stool beside Kuroo’s and gently presses the sides of their knees together.

Kuroo exhales quietly, and they spend the next fifteen minutes without speaking. Maguro’s breakfast drops and he crunches in the background before hopping up on the counter. Kenma doesn’t think he’s supposed to be up there, but Kuroo just presses his face into Maguro’s fur and it’s obvious that this morning is an exception. 

Kuroo passes Kenma the spare key as he puts on his shoes.

“I’ll message you later,” Kuroo says, stepping out of his own apartment. It feels wrong, despite how much time Kenma’s spent here without him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be there. I can’t take more than a few more days off of work though.”

“You’ll figure it out later,” Kenma says, and Kuroo nods. 

Kuroo looks small, despite his height, standing on the other side of the door. A little afraid, too. Kenma wants to smooth it away, but he doesn’t think he knows how. Or if it would even be possible, with something like this.

“I’ll send you a picture of Maguro tonight,” Kenma settles on.

A habit. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Kenma will send a cat picture to Kuroo every night that he takes care of Maguro.

Kuroo gives Kenma another small smile and nods, and then he’s gone. 

Kenma closes the door behind him and decides he’s going to work in sweatpants today, sitting on the floor to pet Maguro for a few minutes longer.

-

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

[Image Attached]

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

[Image Attached] 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

hey sorry i didn’t message last night

i think i’ll be here for a few more days 

probably will be back tuesday 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

don’t worry about it

how is she?

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

okay 

stable at least 

doctors say she’ll be fine with lots of bed rest and new meds 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

that’s good

how are you?

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

if you want to talk about anything, i’m here

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

thanks kenma

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

[Image Attached]

**From Koutarou**

hey have you heard from kuroo since he went back to nagoya?

It’s been radio silence for me and i’m kind of worried?

**To Koutarou**

no i haven’t heard much 

he messaged me on friday night 

his grandmother’s okay 

i think he’s just really tired again 

**From Koutarou**

he always deals with things on his own 

i think he’s by himself in nagoya now too

**To Koutarou**

his parents?

**From Koutarou**

they’re both lawyers 

i don’t think they take time off for anything 

shouyou tried calling kuroo and he didn’t pick up 

**To Koutarou**

maybe he doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now

**From Koutarou**

he doesn’t like anyone seeing him when he’s not okay

so it’s kind of different?

it’s easier when we’re in the same city because i can just show up at his place

**To Koutarou**

i’m going to give him space

**From Koutarou**

okay

love you kenma 

**To Koutarou**

love you 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

[Image Attached]

-

On Tuesday, Kenma’s phone buzzes as he’s getting on the subway for his commute home from work. 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

hey 

thank you for the pics of maguro!

i’m back now

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

welcome home 

and yeah i said i’d send them 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

you’re an excellent cat photographer!

did you want to get take-out tonight? 

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

my apt or do you want to stay home? 

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

is it okay to do my place again?

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

yeah 

i’ll be there in twenty 

The spare key is still in Kenma’s bag when he knocks, and it takes a minute for Kuroo to get to the door. There are dark circles beneath his eyes again, and his face somehow looks thinner even though he was only gone for a few days.

“Hey,” Kuroo says, and he steps back to let Kenma in, accepting the sack of take-out cartons Kenma hands to him.

“Hey.” Kenma slips out of his shoes and drops his bag on top of them. “You look tired.”

Kuroo rubs his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I slept in the hospital for a few nights.”

“Is your grandmother still there?”

“No, she was discharged yesterday. One of my cousins was able to take some time off, so she’ll be there for my grandmother the next few days.”

“That’s good,” Kenma says, and Kuroo gives him another small smile.

They eat quietly at the kitchen counter, Maguro briefly checking out the smell of their dinner before retreating back into the bedroom. When they’re nearly finished, Kuroo says, “thanks for being patient with me.”

Kenma pauses with his hand lifted, noodles dangling from his chopsticks. “What?”

“The last few days,” Kuroo says, and he clears his throat. “I thought about calling you. To talk about what was going on. But I didn’t. I’m… my family wasn’t really good with sharing feelings when there are rough things going on, I guess? Bokuto has been working on me for years, but it’s not always easy.”

Kenma thinks for a moment before nodding. “He was really worried about you.”

Kuroo snorts, and even that sounds tired. “He’s always worried.”

“Should he be?” 

The question is pointed but Kenma doesn’t intend it to be a weapon. It’s sharp, and he presses his lips together into a thin line when Kuroo doesn’t answer. He’s searching for another way to phrase it when Kuroo speaks again.

“I don’t think so. Or I don’t want him to be. I’m trying. I called him earlier, on my way home.” Kuroo shifts on the stool and looks at Kenma. “You’re both patient with me. I think my friends have learned to be. I just—I appreciate it. And I’m working on it.”

Kenma reaches over carefully and puts his hand on top of Kuroo’s where it’s resting on the counter top.

His skin is warm and dry, knuckles a little rough from the winter. 

There’s a message conversation still in Kenma’s phone, only a little over a week old now.

_I’m on the other side of the door._

_If you need some time that’s okay._

Kuroo slowly turns his hand over, and he weaves his fingers through Kenma's.

“I think,” Kenma murmurs, “I am too.”

-

The first night Kuroo comes over to Kenma’s apartment, Koutarou joins them and gets progressively louder as their game competition goes on.

There’s take-out chicken and beer and Kuroo’s horrendous laugh every time he beats Koutarou (he never beats Kenma—neither of them do). Koutarou misses the last bus and the last subway and stays over, and Kenma leaves around two in the morning, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Hey, you _barely_ won,” Koutarou says indignantly, still with no conception of an indoor voice. “Don’t look so smug.”

“Second place doesn’t count as winning,” Kenma mumbles next to him.

Kuroo just lets out another ugly cackle and waves over his shoulder.

Koutarou complains until he falls asleep, sulky and tired, and Kenma rolls his eyes and checks his phone once more before he plugs it in for the night.

**From Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

second place still counts as winning if there’s someone who came in third (✿◠‿◠)

**To Kuroo (ง'̀-'́)ง**

you’re terrible 

**From Kuroo (✿◠‿◠)**

terrible but still a winner~~

**To Kuroo (✿◠‿◠)**

go to sleep you sore loser

**From Kuroo (✿◠‿◠)**

fine! i’ll dream of vanquishing my enemies 

(it’s you you’re enemy number one kenma) 

**To Kuroo (✿◠‿◠)**

keep on dreaming 

**From Kuroo (✿◠‿◠)**

don’t mind if i do~~

night kenma

thanks for having me over <3

**To Kuroo (✿◠‿◠)**

<3

**From Kuroo (✿◠‿◠)**

AAKDHDJS

SCREENSHOT

-

Kenma oversleeps by fifteen minutes on Wednesday morning, which means he stumbles into the 7/11 down the street from work to buy coffee and food rather than packing his lunch. 

He feels only half awake, because it usually takes him until around noon to feel functional anyway, and he’s shuffling around the aisles with his hair in his face when he sees a familiar coat and freezes.

Watanabe notices him at the same time, and they lock eyes for a heartbeat before Kenma ducks his head.

They’ve been very good at avoiding each other for the last month. Watanabe simply seems to pretend Kenma doesn’t exist, which Kenma thinks is perfectly fine. Plenty of people ignore Kenma. It’s much better than being the target of drunken insults or daily nagging at lunch break.

Kenma feels his shoulders hunch, and his feet feel like they’re glued to the linoleum floor, the shelf of chips beside him providing no immediate out. 

_“I’m not good with people.”_

_“I think that’s pretty subjective.”_

Kenma blinks down at his shoes.

_“Watanabe said something about how he didn’t think you had friends. If he heard the way Hinata and Bokuto talk about you, I think his giant, pretentious head might explode.”_

Kenma’s mouth twitches. 

He bows once, and then he walks past Watanabe, down to the refrigerator section.

Today, Kenma will message Shouyou and Koutarou over lunch about their plans for this weekend. And then he’ll have a brief awkward meeting with his senior Shimizu in her office to update her on the bug he’s been fixing and she’ll be kind and straightforward and not comment on Kenma’s mumbling or complaining that he never leaves his desk for lunch. And after work, Kenma will go over to Kuroo’s apartment for dinner and play with Maguro and he won’t think about Watanabe scowling in 7/11.

Kenma grabs a coffee and a pre-packaged egg sandwich, and then he pays and leaves Watanabe behind.

-

“Again?” Kuroo whines.

“I don’t know why you think you’re going to start beating me,” Kenma says, the screen flashing _Game Over_ with Kenma’s character doing a victory dance beneath it.

“If I practice enough I might,” Kuroo says with a sigh. His long legs are stretched out beneath the coffee table, his side warm against Kenma’s. “Maybe we should go to the gym together. I bet I could beat you at reps.”

Kenma gives him an unimpressed look. “You could. I hate the gym.”

Kuroo snorts loudly, and he sets down his controller to stretch. His sweatshirt rides up, exposing the smooth skin of his stomach, and Kenma thinks it would be even warmer than his hands beneath Kenma’s fingers. 

“So can I take it as a metaphorical win, then?”

Kenma’s eyes flick away from Kuroo’s stomach back to his face, and he finds Kuroo’s lazy, crooked grin in place. “No. Because I have the sense not to try challenging you.”

“Are you saying I’m senseless?” Kuroo asks, wiping away an imaginary tear. “You really are cruel, Kenma.”

Kenma sighs in equal parts amusement and exasperation, and then gets to his feet, grabbing the plates they’d used for take-out and bringing them to the kitchen.

Kuroo pads in after him. “Your place _is_ really nice. It’s too bad they don’t allow pets.”

Kenma blinks at him as he turns on the warm water. “They allow pets.”

“Really?” Kuroo frowns slightly. “Why don’t you have a cat then?”

Kenma turns his attention back to the sink, adding the dish soap. He shrugs, trying to formulate an answer.

Kuroo just patiently waits.

“What if they didn’t like me?” Kenma finds himself saying after a few moments. “Or—if I wasn’t good at taking care of them?”

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, and it’s surprisingly gentle. “You’re one of the most careful, kind people I’ve met. I think any cat living with you would be lucky.”

Kenma feels his cheeks warm, but he shakes his head and focuses on scrubbing at one of the plates, little soap bubbles floating lazily through the air above the sink. “I forget to take care of myself sometimes. Or I used to. I don’t know. Forget about it.”

Kuroo’s arms are warm as they wrap around Kenma’s waist, and he hooks his chin over Kenma’s shoulder. 

His weight is comforting. He smells like home. Kenma’s heart jumps in his chest, and he nearly drops the plate he’s holding.

“In my totally unbiased and professional opinion as the guy you pet-sit for, I think you’d be great with a cat of your own. And in my incredibly subjective and nonprofessional opinion as your friend, I think you’d be fucking fantastic and also really happy.”

Kenma’s eyes burn a little bit, and he sniffs as he rinses off the dishes. Kuroo’s chin is sharp as it rests on Kenma’s shoulder, but it’s not uncomfortable. Kenma doesn’t want to pull away to grab the dish towel.

“You really are a marshmallow,” Kenma says, and Kuroo laughs.

“Is that another insult?”

“No.” Kenma reaches for the towel, and Kuroo steps back, his hip braced against the counter top. “You’re kind, Kuroo.”

Kuroo takes the towel from him and finishes drying, smiling softly.

“My grandmother always said that before being anything else, we should be kind,” Kuroo says.

Kenma blinks at him, taking a dry plate and putting it back in the correct shelf. 

“Kind to other people, but kind to yourself, too,” Kuroo says, and Kenma hums quietly, waiting for him to continue. “You know how I said I was an anxious kid?”

Kenma nods, and shelves the next plate.

“My parents are both lawyers. They had these insanely high expectations they put on me. Lots of ‘be quiet, don’t fidget, do these study workbooks so you’ll be a grade ahead in all your subjects, don’t touch anything because you’ll mess it up’ kinds of things. I was constantly afraid of doing something wrong. But every time I visited my grandmother she’d take me out to her back yard and throw this old soccer ball to me, and teach me how to help her with gardening, and let me be as loud as I wanted.”

They’re out of dishes to dry, and it’s just the two of them in a quiet kitchen, a still dripping sink faucet and Kuroo’s low voice.

“I got into volleyball when I was in middle school,” Kuroo says, and he runs his hand through his hair. “They actually _make_ you be loud in volleyball. To call for receives or sets. And if you made a mistake everyone tells you to shake it off and move on.” 

Kenma smiles slightly. If volleyball involved less movement, it would be a nice sport.

“Sorry, I had a point somewhere in there,” Kuroo says, wrinkling his nose.

“You don’t have to have a point to tell me things,” Kenma answers, and he lifts his hand to gently poke at Kuroo’s nose with a still-damp finger. 

Kuroo just wrinkles his nose some more, then laughs when Kenma ducks his head to smile.

“To recap, you’d be great with a cat,” Kuroo says.

He knows what Kuroo meant to say—about being kind to himself, about making mistakes and creating his own expectations.

Kenma hums quietly. “I’ll think about it.”

-

**To Shouyou**

[Image Attached]

**From Shouyou**

he’s so cute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

are you at kuroo-san’s right now???

**To Shouyou**

[Image Attached]

yeah 

**From Shouyou**

OH MY GOD

kuroo-san looks so soft 

does maguro sit on his shoulder like that a lot???

**To Shouyou**

no

hard to balance 

maguro jumped off right after i took it 

**From Shouyou**

they just need practice!!!!!!

also i’m coming up to tokyo next weekend （っ＾▿＾）

can i see you??

**To Shouyou**

yeah

just tell me what time 

“Shouyou says you need to practice carrying Maguro on your shoulder,” Kenma says as he puts his phone down on the kotatsu table.

Kuroo’s laptop is up beside it, a movie neither of them are paying much attention to on the screen. 

“You up for that, buddy?” Kuroo asks Maguro.

Maguro, now curled up on Kenma’s lap, ignores him.

Kenma is nodding off by the time the credits begin, Kuroo’s body a warm line pressed against his. Maguro is still in his lap, and Kenma’s leg is numb from the way he’s had it tucked beneath him, but he doesn’t particularly care.

“Kenma?”

“Hm?”

“Are you actually awake or just sleeping with your eyes open?” Kuroo teases, and he closes his laptop.

Kenma hums again, struggling to put words together when he feels like his brain has already started the shut down process for the night.

“Oh, shit, it’s already two,” Kuroo mutters beside him, and his words are a little hazy. “Do you just want to stay here for the night?”

Kenma nods once. He doesn’t want to move at all. He wants Kuroo pressed against him and Maguro purring in his lap and this small, dark apartment.

Kuroo laughs softly, and he brushes Kenma’s hair back away from his face. “I have an extra toothbrush.”

Kuroo displaces Maguro, then takes Kenma’s hand and hoists him to his feet, and everything is quiet as Kenma sleepily goes through the motions of brushing his teeth and splashing water over his face.

“I can… can I get you some of my clothes to sleep in?” Kuroo asks at some point, and Kenma nods again.

Kenma changes in the bathroom, the fabric of Kuroo’s pajama pants and sweatshirt soft. It smells like him, too, and even though the sweatshirt swallows him and he has to clumsily fold up the bottoms of the pajama pants, they’re perfect.

“You can take the bed,” Kuroo says, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. His hair is messy and his sleep shirt is threadbare and he’s so beautiful. “I’ll get a futon set up out here.”

Kenma just reaches forward, tugging at the hem of Kuroo’s shirt. “I don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind what?”

“Sharing the bed,” Kenma murmurs.

He may be mostly asleep, but he sees the smile illuminate Kuroo’s face. This is a new one, too. Kenma wants to know all of them.

Kenma nestles down beneath the sheets with Kuroo is beside him breathing softly and steadily, and Kenma closes his eyes and drifts.

He thinks he’s smiling, too.

-

The morning is a hazy golden one, sunlight muted by the curtains in Kuroo’s room.

The sheets are still rumpled on the side of the bed Kuroo slept in, and Kenma rolls over onto it as he rubs his eyes. Maguro is curled up at the foot of the bed, clearly content and already fed. 

It feels good to wake up here.

Kenma flexes his toes, then flops onto his side and reaches for his phone. It’s only a little after ten, which is pretty early to be awake on a Saturday.

But Kenma can also hear faint clattering coming from the kitchen, and he drags himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes again as he heads to the bathroom.

He looks like he’s drowning in Kuroo’s sweatshirt, dark red material bunched up around his shoulders, and he rolls back the sleeves to wash his face and brush his teeth. 

When he makes it out to the main room, he finds Kuroo standing over the stove top, stirring a pot of what smells like dashi broth.

His hair is mussed and he’s humming quietly and nodding his head along to whatever song he’s thinking about, wearing a black sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed back to his elbows.

Kenma watches him from the edge of the counter.

He wants waking up in his apartment to feel like this one day. 

Maybe not the same apartment he’s in now. Maybe a different one, with a guest bedroom and a bigger refrigerator.

And with Kuroo.

Kuroo noticed Kenma after a few moments, and he turns around, ladle still in hand. He grins, wide and bright and crooked and perfect.

Kenma just looks at him.

Kuroo’s face softens, his eyes curving, and he looks right back at Kenma.

The broth bubbles quietly on the stove, yellow light tinging the apartment in warm tones, glowing around the edges of the curtains.

And for all that Kenma has been cataloguing Kuroo, he knows that Kuroo’s been learning him, too. 

So Kenma meets his eyes, and thinks, _I like you. I want to have mornings like this with you. You feel like home._

Kuroo sets the ladle on the counter, and he cocks his head to the side. He’s still smiling, but it’s softer now, and maybe someone could miss it if they didn’t know what to look for.

Kenma takes a few steps forward, and Kuroo’s eyes sweep over him—the oversized borrowed sweatshirt and the pajama pants that have come partially unrolled on the left leg.

And then Kenma is standing in front of him, lifting his chin up.

“Kenma,” Kuroo breathes, and he places one hand on Kenma’s cheek. His palms are warm and calloused, and his eyes hold another question.

Kenma rocks up on his toes, and Kuroo leans down to meet him.

-

  
  


**To Mom**

hi mom

**From Mom**

Hi sweetheart! 

How are you doing? Are things better at work?

**To Mom**

yeah 

how are you?

**From Mom**

Not too bad! I had another doctor’s appointment yesterday but only received good reports.

**To Mom**

with dr ito?

**From Mom**

That’s the one! 

Did you want to call?

**To Mom**

no, at the grocery store right now 

are you free this saturday

**From Mom**

Yes! Are you coming home to visit??

**To Mom**

maybe

do you remember when i told you i was pet-sitting for shouyou’s friend?

**From Mom**

I do! Kuroo-kun, right?

**To Mom**

yeah 

i was going to take him to the shrine near our house for the last of the cherry blossoms there

and maybe we could all get lunch together if you feel up for it

**From Mom**

Oh!! 

**To Mom**

oh?

**From Mom**

Sorry, I’m excited! Yes, I would love to meet Kuroo-kun. I’ll make lunch!!

**To Mom**

it’s okay we can go out

**From Mom**

No!! I’m going to make lunch!!

**To Mom**

you message a lot like shouyou recently 

**From Mom**

Really?? He does message me sometimes!

**To Mom**

what

**From Mom**

His boyfriend moved up to Tokyo a few months back!! So he stops by to see me when he's in the area.

**To Mom**

his what

**From Mom**

Oops!! 

I’ll see you Saturday, sweetheart!!

Love you（っ＾▿＾）

**To Mom**

love you 

**To Shouyou**

did you start dating kageyama

and when did you teach my mom how to use emoticons 

-

“I’m just saying,” Shouyou says, flapping one of his hands around. “It’s all because of me that you guys got together in the first place.”

Kenma rolls his eyes and works a chicken meatball down from the skewer. 

Kageyama Tobio, relatively new Tokyo resident and Shouyou’s boyfriend, elbows Shouyou in the side. “You can’t take credit for their entire relationship.”

“Why not?” Shouyou asks, like it’s a legitimate question.

“I get credit, too,” Koutarou says loudly. His mouth is still full, and Kenma reminds himself that he does, actually, love his friends. “I was the one who mentioned how close they lived to each other when Kuroo was talking about needing a pet-sitter.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re very grateful,” Kuroo drawls, and he tilts his head to the side as he winks at Kenma. 

And Kenma reminds himself that he does, actually, love Kuroo, too. 

“We need more skewers,” he says. 

Kuroo laughs obnoxiously, but he catches the attention of the nearby waiter and orders another plate.

By the time they leave the restaurant, the sun has set but the evening is still warm, humidity and heat from the early June day lingering on.

“Maguro’s going to be mad I was out all night,” Kuroo says, and his fingers are woven through Kenma’s as they walk back from the station.

“He’s probably sleeping.”

“You could at least pretend that he cares about my whereabouts.”

Kenma shakes his head, but he tugs on Kuroo’s hand and looks up, and Kuroo grins before leaning down to kiss him. Kuroo’s mouth is always warm, and tonight it’s impossibly gentle as he presses it to Kenma’s. 

A summer breeze rustles past them, and Kuroo squeezes Kenma’s hand before they start walking again.

“Did you want to stay over tonight?” Kuroo asks.

Kenma thinks about it for a moment. He needs to clean his apartment tomorrow—needs to go grocery shopping. Recently, going home after being with Kuroo hasn’t been so overwhelming. It’s like the emptiness of the apartment doesn’t feel like it’s a bad thing when Kenma’s chest is full and he can still feel the warmth of Kuroo’s lips on his forehead.

But he also likes waking up to Kuroo in the morning. He likes drinking a cup of tea, since Kuroo never has coffee around, while dangling a toy for Maguro to bat. He likes kissing Kuroo while they’re in the kitchen together, likes how Kuroo hooks his chin over Kenma’s shoulder when Kenma’s playing on his handheld, likes cataloguing new things about Kuroo or recognizing old things, likes the way Kuroo’s eyes feel on him. He likes the way he fits there. 

“Yeah,” Kenma says, and he leans a little bit into Kuroo’s side as they walk. He can do the grocery shopping and cleaning in the afternoon. He wants Kuroo’s mornings.

“Okay,” Kuroo answers, and he grins beneath the streetlight, familiar and beautiful. “Let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to my family friend who met her current partner through cat-sitting lol
> 
> this was my first haikyuu fic and i've recently really fallen in love with the characters, especially (as probably made obvious here) kenma and kuroo. this was largely hurt/comfort to write, and i hope it brought you a little comfort too!!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/almostsophie1/status/1355622045447565316?s=20)


End file.
